


Making a Monster (Out of You)

by MoMoMomma



Series: Kinktober 2018 [31]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Eden's Gate Cult, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Fishnets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 19:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17514695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: “Go put that on and we’ll see if I can’t show some romance.”“Pretty sure if I put this on, romance is not what you’re gonna be showing me.”





	Making a Monster (Out of You)

**Author's Note:**

> Have the explicit continuation of All Dressed Up because I'm lazy and also wanted to play around more in that 'verse!

“Picked up somethin’ real pretty for you.”

“O-Oh?” Rook hates how his voice shakes but can’t quite manage to control it, not when Jacob’s purring down the line like that. “What is it?”

“Half the fun of a surprise is the not knowing. You’re gonna have to come see for yourself.”

“I’m leaving work now so…”

“Oh, I know.” Jacob’s chuckle is dark and heady and it makes Rook glad he’s in his car and not where people can see him. “And I am just _waiting_ to see you change outta that uniform and into something better.”

Rook makes a soft noise, something involuntary and a bit lost, and it just makes Jacob laugh again. He hadn’t honestly thought Jacob was serious, thought that time behind the bar a week ago was just a fluke. Like maybe Jacob had been drinking before he even hit the Spread Eagle and decided to play with the Deputy in a dress.

The texts and calls over the week, Jacob poking fun in a gentle way and ramping him up until Rook’s pretty sure he’s close to giving his cock friction burns, proved his thinking was way off the mark.

It’s odd. Not bad, per se. But odd. Jacob Seed doesn’t seem the type to be interested in men, full stop, let alone as flirty and confident as he is with it. It speaks of a past, enough experience to be comfortable with himself. 

Either that or Jacob’s act of swaggering over-confidence isn’t really an act at all.

“Where are you?”

“My cabin, up in the Whitetails. I sent you the address already.”

Sure enough, when Rook pulls the phone from his ear, he’s got a text waiting. It makes him shiver--Jacob’s really pulling out all the stops for this one. He puts the phone back, Jacob’s rolling laugh meeting his ear once more.

“You think I was joking you, Deputy? Not gonna lie, you’ve got me eager. Wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

“I’ll be there in...like...twenty minutes?”

Less if he speeds. Which he’s already doing but he’s in his SUV and that’s technically, he thinks, allowed. No one’s gonna pull him over for it, that’s for damn sure.

“I’ll be waiting, sweetheart.”

Jacob hangs up on him and Rook can’t even find it in himself to be mad. He throws the phone into the passenger seat and white knuckles the wheel, trying not to go _too_ fast. He really doesn’t want to have to explain to the Sheriff that the reason people are calling and reporting a Sheriff’s Department SUV flying down the roads is because he was eager to go see his...whatever the fuck Jacob is.

Hook-up, at this point. But a really _nice_ hook-up.

He makes it to the address in fifteen--and no, he doesn’t wanna talk about how many laws he broke to do so. Jacob’s cabin isn’t lavish by any means, tucked back from the road on a clearing of land, but it’s larger than most up in the woods. Build well and kept neat, the grass cleared in a path to the door and the front porch free of clutter save for a chair and a pile of firewood.

And he absolutely doesn’t think about Jacob cutting that firewood himself as he raps his knuckles against the door. Doesn’t think about him using that powerful body to swing an axe over and over, sweat dripping down his brow. Probably taking his shirt off to keep cool.

_Fuck._

“S’open,” Jacob calls from within and Rook cautiously slips inside, closing it neatly behind him. 

It’s spartan inside, but there’s a fire going in the hearth and Jacob’s sprawled in an armchair in front of it. It looks clean, but that could just be because there’s so little inside to clutter it up in any way. 

“You could use some decor.” Rook murmurs as Jacob waves him closer. 

“Not exactly used to having guests over. But if you’re gonna be coming by, might be persuaded to make a few adjustments.”

Which implies this isn’t a one-time thing. Which makes him so stupidly happy Rook can’t wipe the pleased grin from his face as he continues further into the room. 

“And do you want me to come by more often?”

“Don’t go fishing for compliments.” Jacob rolls his eyes but softens the verbal prod with a gesture towards the bag settled on the coffee table. “Everything’s in there. The bathroom’s down the hall and to the right.”

“Romantic.” Rook rolls his eyes but picks up the bag anyhow, peering inside and frowning when tissue paper blocks his view. 

“Go put that on and we’ll see if I can’t show some romance.”

“Pretty sure if I put this on, romance is not what you’re gonna be showing me.”

Jacob smiles like a wolf, all bared teeth and dark amusement.

“Won’t know unless you go, right?”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Rook waves off Jacob’s insistent stare, turning on his heel to make his way to the bathroom.

He’d thought Jacob might make him change in front of him. Wanted him to, maybe. But he understands. There’s more anticipation in waiting to see the final result. Seeing it all come together is nice but even Rook admits he avoids the mirrors, on the rare occasion he dresses up at home, until he’s ready to see himself all dolled up.

Not this time though. No, Rook watches, eyes skipping to the mirror as he draws fabric free from the bag. There’s something wanting in his expression, lust written in the way his pupils eat up his iris, the way red lines itself across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. 

He’d be willing to bet Jacob looks the same right about now. Maybe fidgety, glancing over his shoulder to see if Rook’s emerged yet, maybe listening for every errant sound that could be him coming down the hall.

To be wanted so openly, to have lust spelled out and spilled out into the cabin until Rook’s thick between his thighs and ruining the smooth lines of the outfit...it’s addicting. He smooths down the skirt, pulls it tight over the jut of his cock just for a moment, marveling at how obscene it looks. 

Though the garter belt and fishnets combo probably help with that.

There’s no top and Rook doesn’t bother putting his back on. If Jacob wanted him to wear something on his chest, he’d have given him something. He steels himself before he steps out into the hall, one deep breath that drags in, in, in until it catches and whooshes back out. Rook tries to keep his footfalls quiet as he pads back towards the front room, but it’s probably in vain.

Jacob knows he’s here. He can see it in the way his shoulders crawl up around his ears briefly before dropping, like Jacob forced the movement. Rook purposefully steps behind the chair, playful, running his hands over the back and forwards, curving down Jacob’s shoulders and onto his broad chest.

“I like it.”

“I’ll just bet you do. Knew you would.” Jacob’s voice is an even rumble but the curve of his ear is red, so close to Rook’s mouth he can’t resist pressing a teasing kiss to the heated skin. 

“I figured. Give you a pretty skirt and some lacey things and you turn into some playboy bunny.”

“I thought I was a base bunny.”

“We’re not on base.” Jacob points out and Rook can tell he’s getting fidgety, eager, shoulders shifting under the drape of his arms and the point of his chin. “Be in a hell of a lot of trouble if we were.”

“Oh? Gonna do things to me so bad you’d get court martialed?”

“I was a Sergeant.” Jacob points out and--oh. Rook didn’t know that. That...actually makes him hotter, stupidly. “Ranked above a medic, for damn sure. Not sure that’d be a level enough playing field for anyone to not make accusations.”

“Right, of course.” 

Rook slips his hands away, rounds the chair, keeps his eyes on Jacob’s to see his reaction. It’s not the stunned, open mouth staring he’d wanted, but Jacob sucks in a breath and his fingers go white on the arms of his chair as Rook stops in front of him. 

“I’d just have to flutter my eyelashes and say you took _advantage_ of me.” He tries for coy, widens his eyes and shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Made me do all sorts of things for you.”

Jacob groans, deep in his chest, and his hands peel off the arms, reaching out. Rook’s tempted to dance out of a reach, make him work for it, but he’s wound just as tight. He goes forward willingly when Jacob fits his hands over his hips and tugs, one knee braced on the seat next to Jacob’s thigh. The callouses on Jacob’s fingers catch and tug at the fishnets when he smooths his hands over them, rumbling something pleased low in his throat.

“Pretty thing.”

“You make pretty good choices.” Rook says lightly, like his heart isn’t pounding in his throat as Jacob slides his fingers just under the hem of the skirt. 

“You didn’t think I would?”

He doesn’t answer, mostly because Jacob’s hands slide up and inwards and the first brush of fingers against Rook’s cock makes his breath catch in a moan. 

“Can’t decide if I regret not getting you some pretty panties.” Jacob muses, scraping his nails against Rook’s inner thighs until he’s shaking. “Probably be soaked through by this point anyhow. But it’d be another layer to peel off you.”

“You could--” Rook swallows thickly. “You could settle for peeling off these layers.”

Jacob grins and there’s something there, something dark, and Rook is almost expecting the harsh pull forwards. Almost. He’s caught off guard, though, by the strength behind Jacob’s arms and all but topples into his lap. The skirt flies up, settling bare skin against the scrape of Jacob’s jeans, fitting their cocks neatly together as Rook’s thighs split wide over the spread of Jacob’s sprawl. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jacob tips his head and it’s not a question Rook needs to answer even though he wants to. Argue his case, maybe get Jacob’s hands back under his skirt and off his hips. “Thought I promised you I’d fuck you with the skirt on?”

“There might have been...some promises about that.”

Like he doesn’t remember. Like Jacob’s snarled and filthy promises aren’t etched into his brain at this point. Jacob grins and Rook knows he’s caught out, fingers flexing in Jacob’s jacket. There had been a promise about that too and Rook’s not too greedy, he’s not going to ask for that now, not when Jacob’s walking his fingers around to Rook’s back and down.

But later? At another time?

He’ll pay for the damn dry-cleaning if he has to. He wants the weight of it on him, the scent of Jacob in his nose as he’s fucked into whatever surface Jacob’s found.

“Should be lube next to the chair.” Jacob murmurs, Rook obediantly bending and patting around until his fingers close around a bottle.

“Were you planning something?”

“Just a bit.” Jacob flashes teeth in his grin as his fingers brush dry over Rook’s hole. “Figured you wouldn't be opposed. Not when you spread out so easily for me before.”

He snatches the lube with his free hand, pulls it behind Rook’s back and his breath whooshes out in a soft sigh when the next press of Jacob’s fingers is slick, slightly chill. 

“You think you’d have actually let me get inside you back then? Against the back wall of a bar with a ton of people inside, probably listening in?”

Rook can’t answer, not when Jacob’s inside _now_ , just one finger but enough that he’s wriggling in place with a low whine. It’s been forever since he’s actually been fucked, properly fucked with little concern to the surroundings or his comfort. Just animal rutting. 

Jacob could give him that. Seems intent to do just that as he’s already sinking another finger inside with a low shush, like Rook’s making distressed noises he’s not aware of. 

“Course not. Not one for an audience, are you?” Jacob spreads his fingers and Rook’s eyes flutter closed, thighs twitching, hands clenched so tightly in the jacket his fingers are going numb. “No, private shows only. Glad I got to see one.”

“You have to--I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh, I know you do. But I should be easy with you.” 

Easy isn’t the third finger Jacob slides inside, working them in and out until Rook’s swaying in place and trying to move into the mock thrusts. 

“Wouldn’t want anyone to think I was taking advantage, hm?”

“ _Please_ take advantage of me.”

“Sweet thing.” Jacob urges him up, up and off and Rook’s worried he’s done something wrong, pissed Jacob off somehow. 

Until Jacob keeps pushing, fingers slick against his skin as he bears Rook backwards so fast he nearly trips over his own feet. Up against another wall, facing Jacob this time, hands fisted up in his jacket because he’s not sure what the hell is happening. 

But Jacob just grins, hooks a hand under Rook’s thigh and urges it up until Rook can hook it around his hips and--oh. He understands now. 

It’s an awkward position, Jacob’s just tall enough it puts Rook on his tiptoes, arms slung over his shoulders to try and gain some balance. Right where Jacob wants him though, totally at his mercy. The jingle of his belt buckle is barely audible over Rook’s panting, Jacob’s own murmured praises about how pretty he looks, how sweet.

The first press of Jacob’s cock to his hole makes Rook slam his eyes shut, shuddering in his arms. He’s thick, the press of it enough to make him groan, leg straining as he tries to open himself wider to fit the bulk of Jacob between his legs. 

Until he’s not. Until Jacob slides his hands under his thighs and _lifts_ him. Rook’s not a delicate man--he’s not built like a tank like Jacob is but he’s never been called petite in his life--and the sudden weightlessness makes him grab frantically for Jacob. 

“I got you.” Jacob says softly, eyes on his as he works his way inside with little thrusts of his hips, slowly sinking his cock so deep Rook’s scared to look down. Like he’ll be able to see the length of it through his stomach.

God, it feels like he’s in Rook’s fucking _throat_. He knew Jacob had a big cock but...Jesus Christ.

“Thought about the floor.” Jacob admits, voice strained but even as he starts to pull out only to rock back in. “You’d look a fucking sight. Skirt all rucked up and thighs split wide for me. But you like this, huh? You wanted this that night. I wanted it. Wanted to tear that shitty skirt off you and fuck you right then and there.”

“Y-You should’ve.”

Jacob thrusts hard, like Rook’s words broke something free inside him, and he curls forward until he can bury his whines in Jacob’s shoulder. 

“I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to. You’re such a sweet thing, you spread so pretty for me. But I couldn’t risk anyone else seeing you, sweetheart.”

Jacob hitches him higher, legs draped over forearms now instead of held in his hands. It’s better and it’s _worse_ now. Because Rook’s braced so tightly against the wall he’s not sure Jacob’s holding a good portion of his weight and Jacob’s hands are pressed against the wood and he’s fucking into him like a jackhammer.

It’s been a while for them both, Rook guesses, in a manic sort of amusement as he tries to keep his head on straight.

“J-Jealous?”

“You fucking bet.” Jacob noses into his throat, sets teeth there as he thrusts into Rook so hard it makes his back ache. “You think I wanna share you? Let anyone else see how pretty you look when you’re all dolled up and getting your brains fucked out?”

Rook lets go, shoves a hand between them to grab for his cock. It’s messy, his skirt all over the place, and he’s got a handful of cloth to work alongside his cock when he finally manages it. It makes it better, really, especially when he glances down and sees the mess Jacob’s making of him. It looks _obscene_ , his cock against the red of the skirt, the black of the fishnets against Jacob’s fair skin. 

“Oh my god,” he breathes, shuddering apart, back arching to meet Jacob’s hips. “I’m gonna--Jacob!”

“Yeah,” Jacob’s little more than grunting now, barely words. “Come on. Come for me, sweet thing. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.”

He does. It’s filthy when Rook comes, instantly getting all over the skirt and Jacob’s shirt. He can’t keep himself steady when Jacob keeps fucking him through it, winding him higher and higher until he’s wrapping his arms around Jacob’s neck and clinging. Jacob presses him back against the wall and _grinds_ inside when he comes, so close Rook thinks wildly he’ll have bruises on his back in the pattern of the log walls. 

“Don’t drop me.” Rook warns when Jacob shakes all over, urging a low laugh out of the man. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

He nearly does though, especially when he draws his hips back to slip free and shudders so hard it makes his eyes shut for a moment. But he keeps his promise, gripping tighter onto Rook as he stumbles backwards from the wall and all but collapses into the chair once more. Rook winces when he lands on top of him, thighs too wide once again, knees trying to find purchase so he can close his legs.

“Stop moving.” Jacob commands lazily, patting at his thighs like Rook’s a dog he needs to calm.

“I’m gonna--” Rook’s cheeks flush as he continues his efforts to move. “Sitting like this--I’ll make a mess.”

“So what?” 

Jacob slides under his skirt again, seemingly uncaring of the drying come between them, gripping Rook’s cheeks in each big hand. He yelps when Jacob spreads him, trying to clench down, shoving at Jacob’s big shoulders.

“Stop, stop!”

“Precious little thing.” Jacob rumbles. “Not worried about a mess. Just an excuse to get us in the shower together.”

Rook doesn’t have a response to that. What the hell would be a proper response anyhow? Yes, sir, thank you? Still, he wriggles in Jacob’s hold, cheeks so hot he can feel them. 

“Besides,” Jacob says, grin back to the knife edge of wicked. “Might’ve picked up a few more things. Pretty little nightgowns for you to wear and me to wreck.”

“I’ve made a monster.” 

“Naw,” Jacob tips him forward pointedly enough Rook leans in for the kiss, sighing when Jacob sinks a few careful fingers inside where he’s sensitive and almost sore. “Was always a monster, sweetness. You just unleashed it.”


End file.
